Suddenly I felt her hand at the button of my jeans and I stilled, closing my hand around hers. “Kenzie, we can’t.” My forehead was pressed against hers, my breaths panting out of me at a rapid pace.
“I want to touch you.” Her voice was raspy, deep, drowsy almost. And sexy as fuck. Her hand wriggled free from mine and she unbuttoned my pants. I lost the will to stop her. “We don’t have to have sex, but I at least want to feel you.” I opened my eyes to find her staring right at me, paused, waiting for permission. Suddenly, our roles were reversed, and she was the one taking cues from me.
I would deny her nothing.
I finished unzipping my pants and pushed them over my hips, kicking them off, then rolling off Kenzie so we were facing each other. I reached up, pressed my hand to her cheek, then slid it back into her hair, pulling her lips to mine. I felt her hand tremble as it grazed my stomach, her fingers tentatively pulling on the elastic of my boxer briefs. I lost my breath as her hand slid in and wrapped around me. Our lips were just a breath apart, both of us panting, her fingers moving gingerly over the most sensitive part of me.
She started at the base, squeezed, then moved to the tip, her hand becoming slick once she moved over the top.
“Jesus, McKenzie,” I whispered, unable to even move my lips from hers before I uttered the words.
“Am I doing it wrong?”
“What?” I pulled back, looking her in the eye. “No, it’s better than I ever thought it could be.”
Her hand started pumping up and down again, and I tried to focus on her, but I was losing control. “Hayes, please, touch me too.”
Without a second thought my hand slid down the softness of her stomach, pressed under the lace of her underwear, and I found her wet and warm. “Christ, you’re perfect,” I managed, even though I could hardly put the words together.
Minutes seemed like hours as we moved our hands over one another. It might have lasted days, I had no idea. She was moving her hand up and down my shaft so perfectly, and I was glorying in the feel of her, so tight and ready for me. I slipped one finger inside and smiled softy when I felt all her muscles contract, even the ones in her jaw. We had so much time ahead of us to figure it out, to make sure we were always in tune, but this first time—that first touch—it was so much more than I could have asked for.
We were all hands and mouths and bodies rubbing against each other. Eventually I lost the ability to care whether anyone could hear us because I was so lost in her. We were panted breaths, and bitten shoulders, and Yeses and Oh Gods.
I focused the pads of my fingers on her clit, rubbing gentle yet quick circles, and I matched her pace. My fingers followed the crescendo of her hand against me, and finally, we both found release together.
It was not lost on me how incredible or rare it was to come with someone simultaneously. It had never happened to me before, and I simply couldn’t wrap my mind around how connected I already felt to McKenzie.
“Wow,” she whispered after a few moments, both of us lying still, catching our breath. “That was… perfect.” She said the words and before I could even agree, she backpedaled. “I mean, it was for me. I know it probably wasn’t great for you. I’m sorry.”
“What are you talking about?” I said the words as I pulled her face to look me in the eye. “You’ve got to stop doing that. What we just did? It was incredible.” I pressed a soft kiss against her lips, trying to reassure her. “Stop doubting yourself.”
I lost her eyes for just a moment as she looked away, but she brought them back and said, “I just feel really inexperienced with you.”
“Inexperienced?”
She let out a small huff. “Can we not talk about it? I’m sorry I brought it up.” Her hand came to cradle my face. “I’m just overwhelmed is all.” I watched her eyes, trying to figure out how to respond, when her face lit up suddenly. “Oh, don’t move.” She pulled out of my arms and reached into the corner of the tent that held all our clothes and pulled her purse from the bottom of the pile. She reached inside and pulled out a travel-sized container of Kleenex. I watched as she gingerly cleaned me up, then threw the tissue toward the foot of the tent.
I watched as she searched for her tank top, then pulled it on. I groaned inwardly, sad I was losing the beauty of her bared to me. But as she was doing that, I remade the bed of her tent, zipping the two bags together, making it one bag and big enough for both of us. She climbed back in, her sweatpants back on, but not the full garb she’d had on earlier, and I pulled my t-shirt back on.
When we finally settled, she didn’t hesitate to curl into my side and rest her head on my chest again.
“Can I ask you a question?” she whispered.
“Of course.”
“How many people have you slept with?”
“Five,” I answered immediately.
I heard a long pause, silence, then “Oh.”
“Oh?”
I felt her shrug. “It’s just a lot.”
“Is it?”
“It’s more than me.”
“I’m four years older than you.”